


BronzeAgeLove: Ficlets and Drabbles

by BronzeAgeLove



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, Writing practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 17,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeAgeLove/pseuds/BronzeAgeLove
Summary: SINCE MY DRABBLE COLLECTION WAS GETTING EXCEEDINGLY LONG AND HARD TO NAVIGATE, I AM NOW IN THE PROCESS OF SPLITTING THEM UP BY OCS AND REPOSTING THEM IN THEIR RESPECTIVE WORKS. I'M KEEPING THIS ONE UP FOR THE COMMENTS, BUT NO NEW DRABBLES WILL BE ADDED HERE FROM NOW ON. PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!***My ongoing collection of writing practice, random drabbles and one-shots centering around my OCs. Some are of Jane and Kieran from "First Seeds" post-Happy Ending, so I suggest you read that story first, but these drabbles can stand for themselves too. The others will be the adventures of C-Sec officers Adessar and Miura (starring in "Don't Hate, Elevate!")... doing stupid stuff as they do. Together, by themselves, with or without elevators involved. You have been warned.





	1. Love and Music

**Author's Note:**

> **The Mass Effect Universe belongs to BioWare. OCs are my own**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated T

It had all been because of the music.

Los Angeles, three days away from everyday worries, showing him her home planet. Walking the street aimlessly, unable to sleep, that hole in the wall club had somehow called out to them.

Inside, a small stage, hard industrial beats and hoarse screaming vocals echoing off a low ceiling that was dripping with condensation. The guests mostly dressed in black, writhing, jumping, moving like waves against a cliff.

On the few occasions they went out together, they always stuck to small venues. Alternative crowds tended to be more accepting of aliens. Yet even there, they never dared show affection, too much danger of offending those humans still resentful for the First Contact War.

The music went straight to their feet, loud and contagious, synching with their heartbeats and urging them on. She looked up at him while dancing, unable to hide her smile, her excitement at being here with him, at feeling so incredibly alive all of a sudden, the beat pulsing in her head and her veins. Always having to defend him against all the irrational hate was exhausting, yet he filled her with so much affection. And she took him in, his fringe highlighted in neon by the strobing lights, that streamlined turian profile she loved so much turned towards the stage in fascination. He was the one, there was no doubt in her heart. No matter how hard their future was going to be.

„Reminds me of a band we used to listen to back on Thracia“, he rumbled into her ear over the music. „ _The Hierarchy‘s Fist_. Very controversial. Our supervisors in boot camp hated them.“

She turned towards him to say something witty about his ‘rebellious past’, but in that same moment, out of the blue, he swept her off her feet, like they did in those sappy old Earth movies. She felt his mouth plates against her lips and threw her arms around his carapace in reflex, the beat pulsing all around them, carrying them along, setting their blood on fire.

A few cheers erupted from those standing close to them. Most of the audience were focused on the stage and didn‘t even notice their kiss, but right there in the middle of the crowd, infused with the beat, for a short moment they were an island of calm in a sea of movement. She tasted him on her lips, so warm, so familiar, and her heart ached with love. This was it. _The moment_. Nothing mattered right now but them, in this cellar, surrounded by strangers. And their hearts in synch with the music.


	2. Language Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated G

From time to time, when their schedule allowed, they‘d sit down for language lessons. It was nice, hearing each others‘ voices untainted by the automated translation voiceover.

„Once more. Kaua’i. Kau-WAH-ee. Repeat.“

„No idea what you’re saying. Ka-ha-ee.“

„Try harder! Kau-WAH-ee.“

„Ka-ha-ee. You are aware that my facial structure won‘t let me articulate your words?“

„I only hear growls. Kau-WAH-ee.“

„Ka-ha-ee. Honestly, you live in the place with the worst name!“

Some rustling, as if one was shoving the other into a pile of leaves, muffled laughter while translators were switched back on.

„You won‘t get any dinner until you pronounce this right!“

„You‘re a mean woman, Ms. Bergen.“

The soft sound of kisses dotting turian faceplates.

„…and you‘re a lousy student, Mr. Artaxias.“

Laughter rang out over the beach again, one high and bright, the other in deep, rumbling dual tones.

And then, only the sound of the waves, and the wind in the trees.


	3. What She Loved About Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated T

People called her strange, or sick, for falling in love with an alien. Especially one from a species humans had fought out a war with, albeit it had been a very short one, or more of a misunderstanding. Most conveyed their concerns in the way they glanced at her, a frown on their faces and that peculiar ‚you’re a poor deranged woman’ kind of look in their eyes. Some would yell insults after her, but never confront her openly. Sometimes she’d feel sad at their responses, sometimes angry, sometimes dismissive.  
  
The path they had chosen wasn’t easy, but at the end of the day, when he’d rub his forehead against her hair in order to mark her with his scent, purring gently, or she’d glide her fingertips over his fringe, marvelling at its texture, all the remorse and hardship was forgotten.  
  
And though even for her, some of his mannerisms had been strange at first, by now she loved everything about him, how he‘d sand-bathe on the beach in the morning, when he thought nobody was looking, diving into the sand like an oversized cat rolling in a patch of catnip...

The way he tore into his food when he was really hungry, ripping huge chunks from it with those sharp teeth of his and sometimes swallowing the bites without chewing properly, but at the same time knowing how careful he would be with her, in those warm tropical nights.

How, from time to time, he‘d bend down on their walks along the coast in order to collect small stones, black volcanic ones polished smooth by wind, sand and ocean. ‚For my gizzard‘, he‘d say, and look away as if it was something to be ashamed of.

She loved the way he drank from human glassware, with that peculiar tilt of his head backwards, tiny sips that reminded her of birds flocked around a watering hole, or the soft lapping sounds when he drank from a bowl.

...and especially him panting after exercising in the midday sun, glistening in the bright daylight, mouth open, mandibles slightly flared to let the heat escape, his tongue a greyish blue against the taupe of his plates.  
  
Seeing him act out his natural self filled her with so much warmth, and affection, a peculiar feeling that bloomed in her chest, in between all the regrets and darkness she kept hidden inside. Yes it was strange, by human standards, and those around her would word their concerns, or their disapproval, again and again, but she was his, and he was hers, and she wouldn‘t have it any other way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are mostly my own HC, so if you disagree, please do so silently ;)


	4. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated T

She managed well most of the time, going through everyday life with determination and vigour.

Yet on certain days, triggered by minute failures or difficulties popping up on the way, that feeling of dread, of despair, would creep up inside her, very gently at first, and obscure her heart slowly, like snow falling on a nighttime meadow.

It was hard. She was good at keeping up this image of being able to cope with what happened all those years ago, of being strong, so nobody ever asked her how she felt. But whenever she dared open up to someone, describing these moments of darkness inside, they‘d say something along the lines of “Just pull yourself together, it‘ll be fine tomorrow“, and that hurt the most.

Sometimes she‘d be frustrated at everything around her, when lunch prep didn‘t advance as smoothly as imagined, about extranet orders that should have arrived a week ago, when her long outdated omni-tool crashed again.

On other days, she was more troubled about herself, about what she had become. And she‘d look down at her prosthetics, those _things_ that were both part of her and somehow not, for everything advanced medicine and engineering could do, the neural feedback was simply not the same. She missed the feeling in her right hand the most. Especially when she opened the latches before taking a shower and looked down at the scarred remains of her arm first and then at the carbon shell lying still on the table. That’s when she’d remember about the airlock coming down. And how she used to be, back in her ordinary life, before that day. Bored, lonely. Safe. Whole.

But here, sitting on her porch on the beach, the sound of the Pacific in her ears, where she thought she’d find peace far away from interstellar politics, from xenophobia, from all the scheming, she’d look down at two arms and two legs, two made of warm skin and flesh and two made of carbon and circuitry, and they were just… _not her own_.

Most people would shake their heads, or shrug, telling her she was lucky to have survived, that she should be _grateful_. It was a constant fight.

But then, _he_ had come back. The one she thought she had lost forever. He was different. He‘d been there, seen the chasm, he knew what she was going through because he‘d barely escaped that day, too, with his very own set of scars. Those in his soul, that wouldn‘t let him sleep at night, that would only flash up in his impossibly green eyes on certain occasions, fear and loss reflecting in them, gone in the fraction of a second. He was good at hiding his feelings from the universe. Maybe even more skilled than she was.

In those nights, when she‘d lie awake, tears rolling down involuntarily, soaking into her hair, she‘d listen to him, all the sounds he made when he was having that dream. All the tiny growls, and nearly inaudible keens, his subvocal fear resonating inside her. And she‘d reach out, with her good hand, so she could feel him the way she was supposed to, and trail her fingers over the plates that covered his forehead and cheeks, feeling their rough texture, wandering down to caress a twitching mandible. And when he‘d open his eyes, first in shock, all that unspoken terror in them, before focusing on her face in the half-light, he‘d finally exhale, and extend his long arms to hold her close, without saying a word. In those moments, nothing else mattered but them, here.

Survivors.

She felt his three fingers intertwine with her artificial ones in the near dark, for that tiny bit of fake neural feedback it gave her, she appreciated the way he accepted all of her without question, and she looked down to marvel time and time again at how small her hand felt in his.

The scars would never fade, no matter how much they both wished for them to disappear, how hard they tried getting over what had happened. Yet no matter what the universe was going to hurl at them, one thing she felt in her heart- They‘d face it together.


	5. Behind Her Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated M for language/innuendos

She knew that people were talking behind her back when she walked past. By now, she‘d gotten used to them discussing who she was.

_“Look, isn’t that the poor girl who survived the Terra Firma conspiracy three years ago?”  
_

_“Yeah. Wow she really looks her age. Must be hard, walking around with prosthetics so early in her life. See the drag in her leg?”  
_

_“Yes. Couldn‘t she have gotten more inconspicuous ones? It‘s appalling!”_  
  
She put up with it, treated everyone courteously nonetheless. Built herself a reputation of being a good host, of meeting her guests, no matter which species, with grace and honesty. She’d gotten used to the silent insults.

But now, after _his_ arrival, it was the same bullshit all over again, just a little different.

* * *

_“Look Fred, it’s Bergen!”_  
  
_“Have you heard? That alien is going to stay here! On Kaua‘i! Our island! Isn‘t there a law against that?“_  
  
_“He‘s so big! Have you seen his claws?? I mean he jogs on the beach in the morning barefooted, it‘s like a goddamn 2 meter velociraptor charging at you!“_  
  
_“God turians are scary. They can’t be trusted. What if he goes berserk one day?”_  
  
_“Well I’m sure we could take that thing down. But Bergen won’t like it…. Hey, do you think they f–”_  
  
_“Yuck! Is that even possible? And wouldn’t that be considered bestiality?“_  
  
_“I don’t know! He’s sentient, I think? But I saw them bump heads one evening, and he ran one of those massive hands down her arm and she seemed to like it. I’m sure she’s one of those xeno pervs totally into getting fu–”_  
  
_“Shhh shutup shutup–!”_  
  
She knew what fuelled their talk anew, and it did hurt. A lot. Yet she decided that every time she’d go to town, she‘d smile and put up with it. Every single time.  
  
„Good morning Ms. Imamura. Mr. Imamura. Hey Fred! Lovely day today, isn‘t it?“  
  
„It is indeed! Thanks for asking, Ms. Bergen. Hope the guesthouse is doing fine?“  
  
„Yes thank you. My new assistant’s settling in well, too. Quite a difference from living in Citadel space, he said. His residence permit’s still hanging, but he loves the climate here.“  
  
„Oh how nice! Tell him welcome to Kaua’i from all of us, will you?“  
  
„Sure, I’ll let him know!“

She‘d pay, hoist the crates of produce, and leave after some more small talk.

And she knew exactly what happened once she turned the corner.  
  
_“That nerve, lying to us so openly? Assistant my ass! The way she smiled at mentioning him? Disgusting!”_  
  
_“Hey you never know, maybe he‘s a real stud? I‘ve heard stories from an Alliance officer…”_  
  
_“Oh come on! More like no decent guy in his right mind would have her, she‘s crazy!”_

She’d sigh while blinking away a few tears, thinking about her life before all of this. Every time, she’d make her way back to the beach, and hear the sound of busy preparations in the kitchen from afar.

And she’d call his name, anticipation in her voice. She’d break into a smile when he stepped out onto the veranda, greeting her with that little scrunch of his nose and a flick of his mandibles that was so _him_.

It was hard. But she looked at him, and her heart ached with love. As long as he was here with her, she could surely put up with a little more slander.


	6. Februar OC: Adessar, Quintus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for #februaroc on Tumblr.  
> Rated G.
> 
> A little backstory on how Adessar got into C-Sec Tech.

“Get out.“

At the pilot’s gruff words, Adessar shouldered his field pack with a growl and took a reluctant step off the shuttle, out into the busy Citadel docking areas. The sheer size of the station had already made him shudder in awe during their approach, but being inside the giant hull now, he felt overwhelmed by its grandeur.

Somebody bumped into him, snarled a ‘watch it’. Not exactly the nicest welcome. Adessar wearily scratched the back of his head underneath the fringe and sighed. Well, here he was, clutching a datapad to his chest with a referral by General Kandros herself to her buddies in C-Sec’s exec floor, stating that she had “just the guy they needed for their tech squad“. Adessar knew there was more behind that. An urgent referral from a Hierarchy General that had you out of your bunk and onto a flight in a matter of hours usually wasn’t a good sign.

 _‘Just the guy’? More like ‘get out of my sight, idiot_ ’, he thought sourly as he trudged on towards the Citadel Rapid Transit Station that was indicated on his omni-tool.

He was aware that he never showed the generals the respect they were used to. Was that his fault? He knew he was a brilliant hacker, they’d pushed him to excel for years, everyone told him he could make it to the top if he only wanted, but he just couldn’t help it. Paired with his big mouth and brazen ways, the Hierarchy apparently found him too much of a loose cannon to climb ranks. In the end, his craving for fun and independence had cost him dearly.

Adessar sighed, and boarded CRT for C-Sec HQ.

_Well then. New life, here I am._


	7. FebruarOC: Miura, Chiho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for #februaroc on Tumblr.  
> Rated G.
> 
> Miura's backstory on how she came to be part of C-Sec's Riot Squad

They always told her she wouldn’t make it. That she was too short, to frail, too young, too brash.

Yet she had shown them. All of them. She, a humble spacer, on that big fuckin’ beautiful Citadel. She went to classes to get her certificates, came out with straight As. Spent hours in the gym, bulking up, wrestling, running. Worked her ass off for minimal wages in the time in between, money she spent honing her skills at the shooting range.

She knew she was short and thin, that nobody would take her serious. Damn those Japanese genes. There was nothing she could change about that, and there would always be people ridiculing her for her dream.

But she knew what she wanted, she worked hard for it. Every night before crawling into her bunk at the flophouse, exhausted, weary and sore, she’d envision herself.

C-Sec Riot Squad was where she wanted to be.

And on the day she made it, after that wonderful, wonderful notice had flashed up on her omni-tool, she put on the sparkly new C-Sec gear they handed out to her, shouldered the assault rifle, and sent emails to all those people who kept putting her down, no text, but containing a photo of herself in shiny blue and black Riot Squad armour, flipping the bird.

_So long, suckers. Chiho Miura has reached her goal._


	8. FebruarOC: Artaxias, Kieran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for #februaroc on Tumblr.  
> Rated G.
> 
> A snippet from Kieran's life between chapters 7 and 8 of "First Seeds"

“Mr. Artaxias? Congratulations. Please follow me.“

It was a lanky salarian nurse escorting him through the hospital’s lobby into one of the patient wards, and Kieran felt incredibly out of place in his scuffed C-Sec armor in here, where everything was so white and polished and smelled of disinfectant. The news had reached him while on patrol, but he was lucky and his supervisor had waved him off with a gruff “Just go, you only become a first-time father once.“

Before he could even greet his sleeping mate, a tiny baby was thrust into his hands, looking crumpled like all newly born turians did, dermal plates still thin and pliable, no teeth, no talons, no fringe. It reminded Kieran of that picture of a wet chicken he’d been shown years ago. On Earth, by _her_. The one he wouldn’t dare talk about, but whose loss he lived through again and again, in his dreams.

The baby looked up at him, giving a soft chirp.

“He’s got your eyes, same bright green“, he heard his mate’s tired but content voice behind him, and turned around, still carrying his son in his arms, to see her sit up in bed. 

“But his mother’s good looks. I’m so proud of you.“

“Flatterer. I’ll have to stay here until tomorrow for last checks. I feel so worn out. Looking forward to those two weeks of leave…“

She reclined into the cushions and was back asleep in seconds.

Full of vigor, the baby tried to move, then gave a frustrated dual-toned squeak when it noticed it couldn’t get away. Kieran’s mandibles twitched in amusement at the unfamiliar sound. Family life was definitely going to be a whole new world, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure anymore if it was what he wanted.

“Hey, Hadrian“, he said tentatively while carefully running one of his gloved fingers underneath the baby’s chin. The gesture rewarded him with another high-pitched chirp that somehow sounded full of hope. 

Lost in thought, his heart heavy, Kieran clutched the newborn to his breastplate, staring out of the window overlooking the Presidium. He knew he was supposed to feel happier. It was his child, after all. Yet in between all the pride he felt for his mate, in between everything he had accomplished in the last years, and all the love that he had received, there still was a void inside of him, something missing. He’d gotten used to the emptiness being there, but the fact that it came back into focus right now, and with such force, worried him a lot. 

Because that empty space was Jane-shaped.


	9. FebruarOC: Bergen, Jane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for #februaroc on Tumblr.  
> Rated G.
> 
> A glimpse into Jane's world during First Contact

_We are not alone._

The news about First Contact came during a boring shift, while she’d been processing immigration requests.

_It’s war!! They’re huge, and dangerous. We have to protect Earth. Mobilize Alliance troops!  
_

A few months that civilians in Sol system spent in fear of _something_ _evil_ crossing the Charon relay, all the while stories from Shanxi flashed over the vid screens, of heroic troops fighting against the alien aggressor.

Jane, trapped in her everyday life, lonely and numb, didn’t really know how to feel about it. Life went on for most humans, the conflict was so far away. She was fearful, to a certain extent. But most of all, her heart ached at the promise of other places, wonderful worlds to explore, and the First Contact had been the spark igniting her imagination.

The war passed quicker than expected. Galactic council stepped in, and suddenly, the Milky Way was this place full of life, so many species living together in relative harmony, so many worlds inhabited, all that new information and technology flooding the markets! Wonderland for those who could afford it. All the while, Earth kept turning. Everyday life went on. Reparation payments were made, grudgingly, humanity invited into the circle of spacefaring species, Earth connected to the galactic credit markets. 

Jane got an omni-tool, a very basic model, that she had to keep clipped to her wrist like a watch. A far cry from those streamlined implanted things the Alliance brass liked to flaunt. She commuted up to the terminal in orbit every day by herself, changed into her uniform, passed her boring shifts dreaming about beautiful alien worlds she knew she’d never be able to see. She felt more lonely than ever, in a universe that had suddenly gotten much bigger. The most exciting thing that happened to her in 2158 was getting to meet asari and salarians, she found them quite affable. But she never thought she’d meet a turian, them, so spiky and proud. _The enemy,_ many humans would say for years to come.

And never would she have imagined that one day she’d fall for one, that eight years after First Contact, every night she‘d sleep accompanied by gentle, dual-toned snores.

It had been humans against turians in the beginning. Now, here on her little island, sometimes it felt more like Jane and Kieran against the rest of the galaxy. But in the end it didn’t matter that much. They were in it together.

_I am not alone._


	10. The Sky At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small snippet from Miura's past
> 
> Rated G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siris suggested I rewrite Chapter 7, Miura's backstory (thanks for the feedback)!  
> So for this writing practice, I tried going more into retrospective by adding some flashbacks :)

It was without a doubt the best day in a long, long time.

Waiting for her initial fitting-out, cadet Chiho Miura stood in C-Sec HQ's armoury, clutching an invite to her chest. It had taken a lot of perseverance to get where she was. She'd tell herself it was natural to feel impatient, always in fear, at the back of her head, that a new message could flash up on her omni-tool at any second, saying _it was all a mistake_ and that she wasn't going to be admitted into C-Sec after all… but it didn't come.

Instead, she waited, patiently, as the quartermaster, a thin-lipped asari, started measuring her from head to toe before giving a frustrated sigh and heading to the warehouse to retrieve the individual armour pieces. After basic training, there would be a new set waiting, manufactured to her measurements, but for the moment, this one would have to suffice, even if Miura already knew it was going to be too loose for her.

There was a full-length mirror affixed to the opposite wall. While waiting, Miura looked at her own scrawny body, dressed in nothing but a thin, charcoal-grey undersuit, eyeing herself with unbroken frustration. She had been trying to bulk up the last two years, but all it did was make her more wiry, and she recognized that perpetual look of refusal and anger in her eyes, engrained into her so deeply through all those years of feeling left alone.

Yet with every piece of battered armour that was fitted on her, with every piece clicking into place, she felt a part of her old self vanish.

 

Boots.

_The way her father yelled at her when he found her again, hidden somewhere in an air shaft, nose up against her omni-tool set on mute, watching old police movies in longing instead of helping with the cargo…_

 

Shin guards.

_How her brothers would make fun of her for being so small and afraid, for crying when she was exhausted after a long day of hauling produce to orbital stations…_

 

Thigh guards.

_The realization, at age ten, that she was doomed to stay a spacer, that she'd never get to see the open sky._

 

It was then when she stopped crying, instead started nurturing the growing anger inside, making it her new source of strength, a bitter, hard ball in her chest, burning cold with a fire fuelled by the desire to escape her monotone destiny. It became the part of her she didn’t know then was going to be her trademark for years to come, impossible to shake off. 

Miura held her own gaze in the mirror while the quartermaster busied herself around her, connecting servos, locking latches, building the suit of armour up from bottom to top, and there it was. She could see it coming, the transformation. She was far away from where she started, somewhere in the outskirts of human-controlled space, a scared, perpetually exhausted little girl. This was her new life now. She had worked hard for it, had not abandoned her dream of becoming a police officer, of doing something _that mattered._

 

Gauntlets.

_The horrible day her omni-tool was taken from her, to punish her for all her daydreaming, to get that stupid idea out of her head…_

 

Pauldrons.

_'Face it, runt, this is your life. Stop that C-Sec nonsense, the council never did anything for us, we're vermin to them!'_

 

Breastplate.

_The look in her father's eyes, three years ago, when she finally yelled all her frustration at him, that she was going to leave, that she was going to the Citadel, into Riot Squad, the best of the best, she could do it, whether he approved or not. Her verbal outbreak had left her with a bruise to her cheek that hurt for days…_

 

Helmet.

_Those laughs behind her back, by everyone on the crew, but especially her family, the sneers when she walked off the ship, without even a glance back, at some godforsaken spaceport. 'Look at our little police girl', 'Don't come crawling back when you fail'... It hurt so much._

 

Miura looked at her reflection in the mirror, safe and strong in her heavy blue and black riot gear, and let her old self go, with a sigh that echoed both relief and loss.

"Okay, give it a walk now, then let me know how it feels", the asari said with a pat to a battered pauldron when she was done, tearing Miura from her pondering, before waving her off into the bright Presidium morning, helmet clipped to her hip.

And Chiho Miura stepped out of C-Sec HQ, listening to the city's bustle, underlined by a light hum from the servos while she put one sturdy boot in front of the other, feeling more grounded, more at home in this suit of armour than she'd ever been. She'd come a long way, but finally, all the despair, all the bitter disappointment, was behind her. She squinted, looking up at the clouds drifting by overhead in a sea of light blue. And even though she knew the sky on the Presidium was nothing but a fake, just a projection, Miura allowed herself a few tears.

 

_The sky, at last._


	11. Right Where You Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short for #friendship february on Tumblr.
> 
> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they can be fluffy if they want XD

“Miura, your turn!”

“No!”

 

It had been a long day for C-Sec. A robbery at the embassies kept the presidium stations on high alert until detectives managed to solve the case, and when the regular patrol officers and riot squad heavies had finally been allowed to go home, they were all so strung up they had somehow, in unison, decided to wind down with some booze and a few party games. They might have been 'only' squadmates, but since his arrival on the Citadel, Quintus Adessar had adopted them as his new family. They were a good bunch, albeit a bit rowdy at times, but he knew he could trust them with his life, no matter that they disagreed or fought sometimes.

Why they chose Adessar's well-worn apartment for their impromptu party was a mystery to him, and even more why surly Chiho Miura decided to join them. She wasn't a social drinker and mostly kept to herself. On the run-ins Adessar had with her outside of their shifts, it had been either to get on each other’s nerves or to have sex (most often a mixture of both), an unlikely combination that for some reason worked remarkably well.

Miura sat on his turian couch that was much too big for her, looking like a little child while her feet dangled in mid-air. The pout on her face didn't make the impression any better. In front of her, on a table littered with half-eaten snacks for four different species, stood a nearly untouched bottle of poison green alcopop.

“Come on, Miura! Everybody else did the Truth or Dare. I told you the embarrassing run-in with Chellick's sister at the bar, and Giuliani stood on the balcony naked yelling 'I love hanar porn'. I gave you a way easier question!“

“T'Rani didn’t have to!“

“Yes, everyone except for T'Rani...“

...they all craned their necks to check if the asari was doing ok, but she was still snoring, out like a light behind the couch, clutching a half-empty bottle of Elasa to her chest as if it was a plush animal, a very content smile blooming on her cornflower blue features.

“She's doing great. Don't change the subject! Miura, your turn, Truth.“

“No!“

After a few minutes of back-and-forth bickering, their other squadmates gave a sigh, and got up, one after the other, a little unsteadily as was to be expected after their off-duty drinking.

“Well guys it's getting late. We're heading home, got shift tomorrow. Don't be at each other's throat, will ya?“

Adessar saw the four off before looking back into the living room over his shoulder, the aftermath of their party well visible in an array of empty bottles and snack crumbs littering the table. Tomorrow was his free day, so the clean-up could wait until the next morning.

Miura still sat on the couch with her legs dangling and arms crossed, her usual surly look on her face.

“You should have asked me a different question”, she finally said. “That one... I don't want to talk about.“

Adessar sat down near her but with enough distance as not to accidentally be touching her. He didn't know if she was going to be ok with him sitting closer today. They'd slept together twice already, but the circumstances had been different, and now was definitely not the right moment.

He sighed, slight worry showing through in his subvocals as he spoke up.

“Why not? 'Tell me a funny story from your childhood' is no big thing, and I'd like to get to know you better.“

A smirk, not a very happy one, flashed over her features. She tucked her legs under and composed herself before looking at him with a soft yet serious expression that was a far cry from her usual sullen mood. Her voice was flat when she spoke, as if she was afraid of putting too much emotion into her speech.

“Tell me, Quintus. What did you want to hear. That I was born on a freighter? Where I was nothing but a pair of arms to carry stuff? I was the youngest and scrawniest of five, a dreamer, totally out of place. There was no time for 'happy'. I had no friends. I had no chance.“

Underlined by T'Rani's soft snores, Miura sighed and leant forward to grab her bottle. She took a long swig before looking back at him, wiping her lips dry with the back of one hand. When she spoke up, she sounded bitter, not angry or dismissive as usual. It was that very peculiar tang of regret, the unsettling timbre creeping onto a voice when one had to recall unpleasant memories.

“Freighters are the most depressing thing, I tell you. No new faces, lousy extranet connection. No sky! All I wanted was to see the sky. Did you know I was always fascinated by police movies? I loved those cheesy old Earth ones, of brash cops with a big mouth!“

Adessar gave a small shrug, indicating her to continue. She had never talked this openly to him, or to anyone, as far as he could remember, and he cherished this sudden change in her, hoping it was a sign she was finally trusting him enough to confide in him.

A sad little smile ghosted around the corners of her mouth before she continued.

“All the 'happy' I got as a child was from those movies. Yet every time I'd steal off to watch heroic detectives solve a murder, envisioning myself in their place, someone would come yelling at me to be productive. 'I want to join the police' I once told them. And all my dad, _my fuckin' dad!!_ , said, with a mean chuckle, was 'stop daydreaming, little runt, you'll never make it. You're destined to stay with us'. I was ten, minimally educated, and had never set foot on a planet. I was nothing. But it was that moment when I decided I'd show them all.”

Adessar's mandibles gave a concerned twitch. Before his inner eye, he imagined her, a small girl on an even smaller freighter, whose only happy memories came from old movies, watched in secret on her omni-tool, and he felt bad for asking her the question in the first place, without considering the possibility of a sad past.

Miura looked up at him, her dark eyes still weary, but to Adessar's relief, some of her usual determination had creeped back into her posture.

“In the end, I did show them”, she said, lightly nodding her head as if to reassure herself, “but now that I reached my goal and got into C-Sec, I have no ambition anymore. All I got left is my anger. I don't really know where I belong.“

Her head drooped anew while she shifted position, tightly hugging her knees to her chest with a heartfelt sigh.

A bit unsure on how to calm her down after this confession, Adessar reached over, gently dragging one taloned hand through her messy black hair, the pads of his fingers trailing over her scalp in what he hoped was a soothing gesture for humans. Her hair was thick, a little wiry in the way it stuck up from her head in odd angles, and fascinated him in more ways than he'd imagined. And suddenly, he knew what to say.

“You belong right here“, he answered softly, “here in my lousy apartment, with a hungover asari snoring at your feet. Right here with your squad. We're your friends, we'll always have your back. We can even be your surrogate family, if you wish.“

When she didn't make any effort to answer, her face still buried behind her knees, Adessar continued, filling the silence.

“I'm really sorry your family were such a disappointment. But hey look, you did it! The greatest achievement of all. You found your place in the Riot Squad, you proved everybody wrong. I mean, look at me. I was hailed a tech prodigy... before the Hierarchy shunted me over to C-Sec like an unwanted second-hand present.“

His remark drew a soft giggle from her, and the fact he was able to cheer her up when she was feeling down filled him with pride.

“Quintus, let's be honest here: Did you try to seduce the local primarch's wife?“

“Uhm, something like that… It's a story for another night.“

“You're an idiot.“

“I know. But you like it.“

And for the first time since he knew her, surly Chiho Miura leant against him with a chuckle, of her own volition, snuggling up to his carapace as well as she could, melting against the curve of his chest with a quite complacent sigh. Not because she wanted to punch him, and not because she wanted to sleep with him. Simply to be there and share each other's company.

They sat in silence for quite some time, listening to soft asari snores from underneath the couch, content to live in this moment together. Nothing more and nothing less.

“You know, I'd have never thought I'd say that, but thank you. You're a good friend”, she admitted in the end, looking up at him with the most gentle expression he'd ever seen on her up to now.

“The best.“

“...and you're a pretentious asshole. But it's ok. Wanna order some fast food and then call it a night?“

Adessar nodded while he hugged her to his chest, a purr rumbling through him. _Friends._ He'd never thought she'd say that about him, and the feeling that started crawling up into his throat was a little unsettling, yet the best he'd felt in a long time. It went beyond the urge to tease, beyond the physical attraction that had drawn him to her in the first place. He looked down at the small human snuggled up to his side, and felt pride and contentment at knowing her.

“Make yourself at home”, he answered at last, not even trying to conceal the tenderness resonating in his subvocals, “you're right where you belong.”


	12. Squick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated G
> 
> ...trying myself at a genuine 100word drabble ... it's not very good, but I'll call it training XD

“Kieran, what weirds you out the most about humans?”

After a few drinks, this night’s truth or dare had somehow turned into a game of “Most embarrassing questions to ask the others”.

Kieran’s brow plates knitted together in a perfect reenactment of a human frown.

“Feet”, he finally said. “You have those tiny stubby toes? Jane wiggles them every morning before getting up. Just…. ew.”

“Hey!” Jane jabbed an elbow at him in feigned outrage. “Hear hear! You never told me about my disgusting feet, mister!”

“You never asked.”

“Heh. I can keep them covered if they give you nightmares.”


	13. Hangover part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated M for language and imagery
> 
> Requested from a Tumblr Drabble Prompt List.  
> Prompt 76: "Please put your penis away"

She should have never agreed to go to this party, because it was rapidly getting out of hand after Giuliani had brought along all that cheap booze from the lower wards. Local brew? Never trust a smiling salarian…. She knew very well why she never drank at social gatherings.

Screaming at him in frustration, Chiho Miura was hanging off her quasi-boyfriend’s arm while he was trying to yank down his pants in the middle of the living room, surrounded by inebriate, off-duty C-Sec officers. Luckily, turian anatomy with all its spurs and angles plus the complicated nature of their clothes didn’t facilitate his endeavour.

“Gods, Quintus you idiot, stop! Just because someone yells ‘Dicks out for Blasto!’ you don’t have to! You’re so drunk you’ll never get it out of your sheath. It’s pathetic. Have some dignity!”

“No. ‘s impo’tant!”

Sleazy laughter behind them, the sound of someone climbing unsteadily onto the table, the rustle of cargo pants sliding down hairy Italian legs. More cheers, accompanied by a few horrified squeals, erupted.

Chiho groaned. Very well, here went her cozy evening. She gave Quintus a shove, making him topple over with a confused chirp (a sound way too cute for a grown creature his size, she decided sourly), before turning around, puffing her small frame up as well as she could. She braced herself... 

...Just as she’d imagined. Floppy and kinda greyish-pink. Not the most uplifting sight. 

To hell with male party games!

“Giuliani, please put your penis away. It’s really not something to be proud of”, she snarled at her squadmate, voice quivering with barely controlled anger. 

Her remark was enough to make Giuliani sober up a bit. A frown flashed over his face, followed by a glimmer of realization of what she said, before he lost his balance and crashed down in a sea of caterwauling.

“Come on Quintus, let’s go home!”, Chiho called out over her shoulder through the din. Giuliani’s less than inspiring show was definitely not the last thing she wanted to remember about tonight… and she had better things to do. Dragging the limp, feebly protesting turian after her, she set out into the lively streets.


	14. Hangover part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Part 2 of "Hangover" from the Tumblr drabble prompt list.  
> Rated a mild M for language
> 
> This part was written for sexy-salmon.tumblr.com, I love you dear <3

“Christ, stop the snoring!”

For sure, it wasn’t the nicest way to wake up halfway between drunk and hungover with a small, bare human foot squashing down on his mandible, those far too numerous stubby toes pressed against his plates.

“Wh’tt..?” Quintus Adessar managed to mumble in response while struggling out of the mass of blankets he’d wrapped himself during the night. Had he known what a ‘Burrito’ was, he could have compared his way of sleeping to one. Adessar groaned. His tongue felt like a foreign object against his teeth, dry and puffy.

“You snore, man! Had to check you were still alive. And you’re hogging all the blankies! No wonder you only get one-night-stands, they all run off when they are subjected to your horrible sleeping habits.”

A few of Adessar’s fried neurons gave a frizzle. Miura. That was the proprietor of the angry voice. Chiho Miura. Tiny, perpetually disgruntled human. Girlfriend, somehow..?

Hmm.

Struggling to get out of his self-imposed blanket straightjacket, Adessar opened one crusty eye and peered up along the foot still planted firmly on his cheek. A wiry leg. Dark, fuzzy skin. Indeed Miura. Farther up, the rest of her body was obscured by an oversized turian shirt that made her look like a walking tent.

“Sp’rits...”

He groaned again. The evening started coming back to him, hesitantly. Giuliani and that cheap booze tasting like paint thinner. Too many shots. Damn. Someone yelling “Dicks out for Blasto!”... Double damn! The rest was a haze.

Miura gave a sigh. The pressure was taken from Adessar’s face as she withdrew her foot before folding her legs under and sitting down near him. She had read the confusion in his face, apparently.

“You owe me one, Quintus”, she said in a defiant way. “Thank me later. Giuliani dangled his dick around like an idiot, but I made sure we left before those two salarian techs started showing off their cloacae.”

“Wh’tt happen’d?!”

This was all a mess. Adessar still had difficulties controlling his tongue. Same with his mandibles. They kinda… kept flapping against his jaw. Unnerving.

...did he invite Miura over? Why was she wearing one of his workout shirts? And most important: What happened at that party?

She prodded his unplated side to get his attention, her jaw locked.

“Eyes here. I know what’s going through your head. You hogged all the blankies, I got the biggest shirt I could find as a substitute. And it took me ages to get you out of those skin-tight pants of yours, you managed to get hot sauce all over yourself, just so you know!”

One of her hands ghosted along the length of his fringe, in a surprisingly soft gesture. Adessar, wallowing in hungover self-pity, closed his eyes with a sigh, too tired to struggle against her caresses.

“Now that you’re awake, I need to have a word with you, Mister Ladykiller Adessar. What were you thinking? You can’t just show your junk to anyone when you’re wasted. You got a reputation to uphold, man!”

She rolled her eyes again, then balled her hand into a fist and hit his arm. For such a small being, she packed quite the punch.

“You’re an asshole but I swear to the gods I don’t want you to be remembered as ‘the one who couldn’t get his dick out’. I hate these displays of male stupidity, and I could have let you humiliate yourself. You’re welcome.”

“Self-int’rested much?” Adessar managed to utter, a brilliantly witty remark given the circumstances.

She smirked, in a predatory fashion that Adessar didn’t know if he should get worried or excited about. Maybe both.

“Oooh yes. You owe me big time, boy. Today, I’ll make you pay again and again… and again. We’ll start before breakfast.”

Oh damn.


	15. Hangover part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of "Hangover"
> 
> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated M for language and imagery  
> Request from a Tumblr Drabble Prompt List. No. 28 "How drunk was I?"

Through the shutters, he caught a glimpse of neon from the ward outside. His head throbbed. Who was he? Where was he exactly? It did feel like home... He also wasn’t wearing any clothes, as he noticed after a quick feel-down, checking if all limbs were still attached. But at least he was himself, Quintus Adessar, and he was at home.

_Oh well._

An unexpected sound made him listen up. Someone was rummaging through the closet in the kitchenette, the artificial light coming through the door left ajar way too bright for Adessar’s sensitive eyes. Shielding his brow with a groan, swaying a little, Adessar padded over towards the foreign sound.

Someone was standing on a chair, on tiptoes, trying to reach the upper cabinets. Miura, Adessar recognized. Not the worst person to wake up to, he had to admit to himself.

“Spiced tea?”, she asked without looking back at him when she heard him approach. She was still wearing one of his shirts, with its way too wide neck- and armholes, glimpses of lacy underwear flashing pink underneath the black.

“Thanks.”

In between the languidness and dehydration, a feeling of comfort flashed up somewhere in Adessar’s chest. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask her. Why she was here, taking care of him. _Why she was wearing that underwear_. And what happened last night.

But before he could open his mouth, his omni-tool pinged. Without much thinking, Adessar powered it up, only to be greeted by two pictures of himself from last night. One showed him trying to take off his pants, while Miura hung from his arm with unbridled fury on her face, her mouth open, screaming at him. The other's foreground was more perplexing until Adessar remembered the human anatomy lessons during xenostudies. _Ew_. Covertly, he thanked the spirits turians had a sheath.

 _HEYO BRO! WE MISSED YOUR DICK AT THE PARTY LAST NIGHT! DON’T GET YOURSELF PUSSY-WHIPPED!_ the caption said.

Giuliani. _Oh damn._ Adessar stared at the pictures in disbelief. He didn’t remember any of this.

“Chiho, tell me…. How drunk was I?” he asked Miura over his shoulder. She sauntered over to him, a steaming bowl of spiced tea in one hand, a glass of water in the other, and gave the pictures a quick glance.

“Well, on from a certain point all you did was talk gibberish about Blasto needing your dick’s support. The correct expression is ‘piss drunk’, I believe”, she started while she handed him the tea, before examining the photos more closely. “Oh my that is unflattering. You look horrible, Quintus. Your mandibles are all over the place. Where did the ‘I’m hotter than you’ womanizer go?”

His headache throbbing harder than before, Adessar groaned, thinking about what the rest of the precinct was going to think of him tomorrow. Then he tentatively lapped at his tea. It was strong and spicy, the way he loved it. For someone whose biology wasn’t dextro-based, Miura had gotten the preparation just right. The hot liquid slowly spreading through his system, Adessar started feeling better.

”He’s on a long vacation”, he mumbled into his tea. “Hope you don’t mind the measly replacement.”

She gave him a nudge with a pointy elbow, the left corner of her mouth twitching.

“Well, let him know I miss yelling insults at him. But I can live with the replacement for a few more days.”


	16. Beauty Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a Tumblr Drabble Challenge List. No. 48: "I didn't think you could get any less romantic"

“One ‘Intimate Togetherness’ Mineral Mud Treatment please.“

Booking a beauty session up in the mountains with your partner was -usually- not a very big deal. A little bit more if it was a posh spa on Earth, the year was 2166 and your boyfriend a big turian, and you promised to show him how human couples bonded.

All business, Jane smiled at the receptionist while she observed his facial expression turn from ‘polite activity’ to ‘intently friendly’. Nobody had outright refused to take care of Kieran yet, but Jane knew staff only put up with them because they were going to spend quite a lot of credits on this beauty treatment. Inwards, she felt a little sorry for the spa staff- one turian (maybe their first interstellar guest) and a woman with extensive prosthetics were definitely not the most everyday of customers.

“Sir I thought this through. I can detach my arm to protect the circuitry, and my companion here will be fine as long as he doesn‘t get anything into his mouth or on his mucous membranes. He‘ll be fine with the fango. It’ll keep his plates shiny and prevent flakiness. Oh and I want all the trimmings and decorations please.“

“Of course. One second.“

The receptionist gave a nervous smile before excusing himself to the back room where they heard some heated argument take place.

“Should we leave? I don‘t want to cause trouble“, Kieran rumbled into Jane‘s ear, in a very low voice.

She chuckled. „No way! I kinda want them to suffer a bit? It‘s not a big deal, and it‘s not as if I asked them to give you a massage, I doubt they got the equipment for _that_.“

Finally, they were escorted to the treatment room by two young female massage therapists dressed in white. Both looked a bit disgruntled, and their faces slipped into a look of shock for a split second when Jane and Kieran were asked to take off their clothes and lie down on the massage couches; Jane casually popping the latches on her prosthetic arm, putting it aside as if that was the most normal thing to do before methodically wrapping the joints of her right leg with cling film in order to protect the seams and circuitry, while Kieran made a show of undressing very slowly, exposing his plated chest and carapace. By now, he knew exactly how to flaunt his size and features to get maximum response from humans not acquainted to aliens. Not even their furtive glance down to the seam in his pelvic plates went unnoticed. His demand for a big pillow to prop up his head was accommodated quite quickly after that.

As always, beauty treatments were fantastic. Jane loved going to the spa; even more so since she usually didn‘t have the time nor money for it. As she lay there feeling the warm fango being applied and massaged into her skin, then being wrapped in foil and a warm blanket, she couldn‘t suppress a content sigh. _Heaven_. Going back to Switzerland for a short holiday over New Year was definitely worth it- even if it put a strain on her finances and people were giving her and Kieran strange looks. She couldn‘t refrain from opening one eye a tiny bit and glancing over to where Kieran was lying on his stomach, keel bone padded by the cushion, the massage therapist working dollops of dark green mud into the gaps between his plates. Her facial expression was a bit sour. Most likely she hadn‘t signed up for pampering big purring aliens by spreading huge amounts of fango all over them.

„All set“, the lady said to Jane when she was done applying the face pack, with a strange twitch to the right corner of her mouth. It seemed she had troubles wording the standard phrase she was used to. „We’ll let you rest for thirty minutes. Take your time to relax, enjoy the... togetherness. We’ll come back and lead you to the showers, afterwards you're free to, uhm, enjoy the private spa and sauna.”

Feeling safe and cradled, swathed in blankets, Jane turned her head and took a long, hard look at Kieran. She knew she wouldn‘t win the beauty pageant herself right now with only one arm and her artificial leg wrapped in foil plus all that green goo on her face, but she couldn‘t contain her laughter when Kieran shot her a sour glance, the mud already gone crusty on his facial plates, flaking off his brow whenever he moved a little.

„Dear, you’re really ugly with that mud crust on. Like the swamp creature!“ Jane managed to say in between giggles.

Kieran chuckled at her remark, trying to struggle out of the mass of blankets he’d been wrapped in but to no avail. The therapist had made sure he was covered perfectly. Relaxation was the key. Jane heard him stifle an irritated growl.

„Hey, I thought this was a supposed to be a romantic getaway, showing me how human couples bonded, but all that happened was that I paid quite the sum of credits to let myself get wrapped in a squishy straightjacket by a surly looking woman and on top of everything, you compare me to a monster? I didn‘t think you could get any less romantic, actually.“

Seeing his doubtful expression, Jane couldn’t help but laugh. „Stop complaining. We’ll wait until we’re freed by the grumpy ladies and then enjoy beautifully soft skin and shiny plates? The smoochy part will follow later. Private bathing in termal water, nice hot sauna with fragrance infusion... you'll love it. And I'll make sure you get your dose of romance, ok?“

He inclined his head a little, as well as he could, one irritated mandible twitching in a futile effort of getting the mud off. When he spoke up, mischief vibrated in his subvocals.

„Sounds like a good plan. But next time, let's do the one hour couple's massage and scrub? I kinda want to give the massage therapist an aneurysm at seeing me naked and figuring out how to knead _my_ shoulders."

"You are aware that emotional torture isn't legal? And now lie back and relax", Jane replied with a giggle. "That's an order."

"Yes ma'am."


	17. Night Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a Tumblr Drabble Challenge List  
> No. 78: "Don't argue. Just do it!"
> 
> ...a genuine 100 word drabble, yeah ;)

C-Sec station 14, Citadel Presidium, night cycle.

The hallways were mostly dark, except for the night desk at the station’s entrance. 

At the back of the hallway, towards the elevators going to the rooftop parking lot, three shadowy figures were barely visible along the wall. A flash of showy clubbing clothes, a whiff of alcohol, the sound of an aerosol can. A female voice, tinged with annoyance, rang out, then the orange shine of an omni-tool flared up. 

“Adessar…. are you sure writing “your sister is sweet” on Chellick’s office door is a good idea..?”

“Don’t argue. Just do it!”


	18. Are you sure that's the decision you want to make?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starring Jordan Shepard, my depressed engineer.
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list. No. 33: "Are you sure that's the decision you want to make?"

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?“

No, if she had to be honest, Jordan Shepard wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had to get up to Peak 15 somehow. And after dropping the question, that turian mechanic just stood there, his arms crossed, looking at her with a smug set to his mandibles. 

“I can’t hold you back“, he said with a shrug, “but the storm’s picking up and I’d rather not be the one being interrogated by Security as the last person who saw the spectre before she killed herself in the snow.“

Jordan sighed. No, she wished she didn’t have to make that decision. But whatever Matriarch Benezia was planning up there, it had something to do with Saren… and they had to be stopped, at all costs. At least, Jordan had to try.

“Li… I wish I could decide against this, but my hands are forced. I appreciate your concern. Goodbye.“

Whatever she was going to encounter on that peak- if they made it that far- wasn’t going to be pretty. She checked her pistol again, nodded to her companions Garrus and Liara, and set out towards the garage with a feeling of dread in her chest.


	19. Dogs don't wear clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran  
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list. No. 47: "Dogs don't wear clothes"

It was a universal truth that turians had a hard time getting human idioms right. Their efforts of “blending in“ by constantly making up their own didn’t make the fact any better.

“Ok ok, but how about ‘like a dog in a suit’ to denote something impossible?“ Kieran asked.

Shaking her head, Jane chuckled at him. It was the third time today he tried his hand at creating new figures of speech, with moderate outcome.

“Kieran, dogs don‘t wear clothes. And we got that saying already in different variations. We say ‘when pigs fly’ or ‘like snow in summer’, depending on our mother tongue.”

“But the dog one is funnier! I like dogs.“

Jane patted his knee. “I know you do. How about this- you stop making up new idioms nobody understands, and we adopt a dog? You could put it in a suit on special occasions.“

“Very funny, Ms Bergen.“

But he did stop the new idiom nonsense. And kept sending her links of dog shelters to her omni-tool instead.


	20. What happened to the TV?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan Shepard x Garrus Vakarian
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr prompt drabble list: "What happened to the TV?" for illusivesoul.tumblr.com

When Garrus Vakarian returned to the apartment after a day out arguing with the Hierarchy, he didn’t expect to find his mate Jordan Shepard sitting there, locked in a staring contest with Grunt, who was looking particularly surly.

There was a hole in the wall where the TV screen had been affixed, and an equally big hole in one of the panoramic windows.

Jordan looked up and said, in her most sarcastic voice: “If you want to ask ‘what happened to the TV’, just don’t; But you may help me teach Grunt it’s not ok to throw tantrums after losing at video games.“


	21. 3-sentence mini fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> f!Ryder x Angara of choice (I was thinking of Evfra, but take your pick)
> 
> Rated G
> 
> written for a tumblr drabble prompt ("write a 3-sentence fic containing your URL") for isharaytaoshay.tumblr.com

Every depart from Aya was filled with dread for Ryder, her mind full of doubt whether she'd return from the next mission, whether she'd see him again.

And every time, his words would stay in the echo of her footsteps as she walked, in the whisper of the wind in the lush trees, in the hum of the Tempest's turbines when they cleared atmosphere.

Ryder closed her eyes, letting the words sink into her, calming her: Isharay, taoshay; Goodbye, my love.


	22. Hello from C-Sec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura  
> featuring their squadmates Alena T'Rani and Francesco Giuliani
> 
> Rated T
> 
> Written in order to celebrate my first milestone which is 100 followers on tumblr (bronzeagelove.tumblr.com). Wow ^^

The omni-tool’s recording feature powered up, showing an austere room, the C-Sec logo etched into the wall.

“How does this thing work?“ somebody asked.

“Wait, I’m gonna press the little arrow on the left!“

A red dot started blinking. The picture wobbled.

“Is it recording yet?“

“Yes! Get in position!“

The image steadied, then zoomed in on a slim young turian with silvery plates and white colony markings down his chin, sitting at the conference table. He looked vaguely bored at first but went into full prince charming mode when he felt the camera on himself.

“Oh.“ He blinked, then gave a nod, all proper C-Sec officer. “Hey everyone! This is Presidium Station 14 speaking. Our pal Bronzie-“

“Sssh don‘t call your supervisor by her nickname! Have some manners!“

A flanged groan. A mandible twitched.

“Ok ok. Our _boss_ BronzeAgeLove asked us to introduce ourselves quickly since she’s got quite a few more followers lately and we pop up on this blog at regular intervals. Nice to meet you all! My name is Quintus Adessar, I‘m the best tech in the station, and these are my squadmates“, he gestured to a big smiling asari to his right and a tiny, very grumpy looking dark-skinned human to his left, “Alena T‘Rani and Chiho Miura. Behind his omni-tool recording this whole mess is Giuliani-“

A hand waved in front of the lens, and a muffled voice with a distinct Italian accent rang up.

“ _Ciao ragazzi_ , I‘m Francesco Giuliani and got sentenced to videotape this sad excuse for a vid! Go on, Letch.“

The turian nodded.

“Ok. A little bit about ourselves. I’m the precinct’s resident... what was the word?“

“Casanova“, Giuliani prompted.

“...Casanova. Right. I like partying, and getting, uhm, intimately acquainted with various new people, if you catch my drift.“

Pride vibrated in his subvocals while Miura rolled her eyes at his statement. Adessar looked at her, shrugged, then turned back to the camera.

“T‘Rani here and Miura are members of our riot squad. T’Rani likes partying with me. Befitting her age, she should have started making little asari babies by now but she won‘t have any of that. Good on you, Blue! Now to my left, you will notice Miura’s surly face and defensive posture. She is small and looks harmless, but don’t be fooled. She harnesses the powers of anger and spite and unleashes it onto poor innocent protesting citizens during riot control. If she wants, she can be very, uhm, _loveable_ too. There was this one time we got trapped in a broken-down elevator together-“

Miura‘s head whipped around with a snarl, her face scrunched up in fury.

“ _You_ hacked that elevator, asshole!“ she yelled at Adessar before launching herself at him, dragging him to the ground with her. Shouts and growls rang up from under the table while T‘Rani tried looking noncommitted.

The camera shook.

“ _Porca miseria_! There we go again...“ Giuliani said.

The recording blacked out, then came back. This time, T‘Rani was sitting in the middle, restraining the two brawlers, hands on the respective shoulders of her squadmates. Miura kept herself puffed up in pride, while Adessar sported a ripped tunic and a smug look around his mandibles.

„I‘m very sorry“, the big asari said, voice straining to conceal her annoyance, “about this inconvenience. I prefer to end this accident of an introduction now. It was nice meeting you all. On behalf of our boss, we hope you have a good time here.“

She smiled, a little forced, while Adessar and Miura were shooting each other unmistakably smoldering looks.

“Are we finished?” Giuliani asked from behind his omni-tool.

T’Rani nodded. “I don’t think we could make a worse first impression on the new followers so yes, this is the end. And you two“, she turned to Miura, then to Adessar, hitting the back of his head with her hand, “either go for a round of sparring, or get a room.“

“I suggest first one, then the other“, Adessar piped up while Miura seethed, before she yelled at him again.

“Gods, I swear one day I’m gonna rip out your blue d-“

“Giuliani, off. Now!“


	23. Before the hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Captain Ianus Etherian, a very no-nonsense Hierarchy captain.
> 
> Rated G

Cruiser Invictus, 2180, on the outskirts of the Terminus systems.

“Captain Etherian?” a voice quavered from the entrance to the cruiser’s gym, echoing through the spartan room. Somewhere in the gloom, a figure could be seen working out on the floor, measured movements full of concentration, interspersed with low growls of exertion. Light from the walls reflected on the curve of a scarred, dark red carapace, on strong, naked legs.

Not bothering to dress, the figure straightened itself before turning towards the door, towering over the newcomer.

Unable to suppress her nervousness, the ensign’s mandibles twitched. She wasn’t especially short for a turian, but the captain was so huge he dwarved her, square-shouldered, his torso a perfect V-shape. He filled her complete field of vision. She’d never seen him up-close before. Her eyes darted over his naked body, telling of encounters with slavers, sparring matches, ground combat, before staying glued to the deep gash in his chest plates.

At her silence, the captain gave an irritated snarl. “Yes? I don‘t like being interrupted”, he prompted, staring her down with bright grey eyes that didn’t allow any backtalk.

The ensign swallowed. She had just started her compulsory Hierarchy training, and serving on Invictus wasn‘t the new recruits’ favourite job. _Captain Ianus won‘t allow any slack_ , they‘d tell each other, _he runs a tight ship_ , their voices full of a weird mixture of reverence and fear. _And hold on to your fatigues, boys,_ they'd whisper to each other, in a hushed way (because obviously slandering superior officers was the worst offense), _if you’re not careful he‘ll have you out of them quicker than you can say ‚yes sir‘_.

She swallowed again, her mandibles pinched close to her face.

“Captain, you said you didn’t want us to disturb you unless it was something important... but we found it. The ship’s signature. It’s the slavers we’ve been looking for.”

The captain growled, his subvocals thrumming with determination.

“Thank you, ensign. I’ll be on deck in six. Assemble the senior officers and my strategists.”

He bared his teeth, white and sharp against the red of his plates, and his eyes sparkled with cold fire. A huge hand stroked along the scar on his chest once, from his left shoulder diagonally over his keel, absent-mindedly.

“Let’s show those batarians what the Hierarchy is capable of”, the captain said to no-one in particular, his voice low. “The hunt is on.”


	24. Finally Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura  
> Rated T
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: "Tonight, we're drinking straight from the bottle"

It had been a long, tiring day for C-Sec.

A threat against the Elcor ambassador had all the presidium stations on high alert and it had taken the tech team most of the day to get to the source, while riot squad members in heavy servo armour marked their presence on the streets. Adessar, Miura and their squadmates found themselves out of station 14 right when the artificial sky started darkening, bathing the high rise buildings in hues of pink and gold.

After saying their goodbyes, the two wandered the streets aimlessly, waiting for their adrenaline to subside, until they happened upon a hole-in-the-wall beverage store.

„I could totally go for a stiff drink right now“, Miura murmured to herself and headed inside.

“Did you get two glasses?” Adessar asked when she returned after a minute with a large container of cheap vodka substitute and something dextro in a slender bottle with long, triangular neck that would slot perfectly between turian mouth plates. But Miura wrinkled her nose at him, as she always did when she was dissatisfied with something he said.

„We had a tiring day. Tonight, we‘re drinking straight from the bottle.“

The tone in her voice made Adessar wonder. He looked at Miura, his head cocked. „Hear hear. You always say you‘d like to be more classy. Now suddenly all it takes is a hard day to revert to your old ways?“

„Shut it, Quintus, I have my reason.“

Drinks in hand, they continued on their way until reaching a small park overlooking the arm of Kithoi ward. For a few minutes, they sat side by side, watching the crowd on their daily business while the Presidium sky darkened to night cycle. The buzz in their heads started subsiding, replaced by the comforting, warm glow of inebriety.

„You know“, Adessar heard Miura say after a few minutes of contemplative side-by-side drinking, „I would have never thought I‘d say that, but I think it’s a good day to be me.“

It wasn’t exactly what he would have expected from her. He was so used to her dropping cutting remarks or slurs, something as soft as this surprised him. He looked at her from the side before reaching out and placing his palm on her forehead, as if taking her temperature. „Are you sick?”

His hand was so big it covered most of her face, but he‘d seen this gesture in an old Earth movie and had wanted to try it out for quite some time.

Miura made a weird sound, something between a snarl and a laugh, before shoving him away. „I‘m not sick! Get that paw off my head, you‘re suffocating me.“

Illuminated by the ward’s neon lights, she looked back out over the crowd walking by. The shop signs reflected in her dark eyes, giving her an otherworldly touch that stirred Adessar‘s blood. He extended his hand again, ruffling the short hair at the back of her neck, the silky strands soft against his fingers, wondering when exactly he’d grown this fond of her.

„I just...“ Not reacting to his caresses, Miura gestured around herself, some of the yellowish liquid in her bottle sloshing over the rim. „I told you I didn’t know where I belong, right? But today showed me I am where I want to be. Out there on the street,I was doing something that matters. I stood there, safe and strong in my armour, and realized I love working at C-Sec. The way I dreamt all those years.“

It was the first time since he knew her that she’d said something positive on her own, and about herself. She’d told him about her past, the reason why she distrusted everyone and reacted with spite and hate to everyone trying to get close to her. It had been what had incited him to tease her in the first place, and finally seduce her. That urge to make her his, that prickly little human who would show disdain towards everyone, he’d wanted to see her come undone underneath him. But the Miura seated next to him now was different. More at peace with herself. She was finally putting the ghosts of her past beind. On a whim, Adessar hugged her to his chest against her squeaked protests. A low purr of elation was rumbling through him.

„Chiho Miura, welcome home.“

Leaned against him, face buried in his tunic, she nodded, then looked up. The city lights played over her features, lighting up the caramel colour of her cheeks.

„Yeah. I think I know where I belong. Lemme tell you a secret?“

A conspiratory smile was playing at the edges of her mouth.

“Sure.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she stretched herself to get close to his ear canal. “I find the way you turians drink by shoving bottlenecks down your throats incredibly amusing.”

Adessar shook his head before giving a deep sigh. “Way to ruin the mood by insulting my species!”

“Hey it’s cute! It was a compliment. I also like the way you lap tea from your bowl. Very regal. Very civilized.”

His mandibles twitching in amusement, Adessar reached out to ruffle her hair again, delighting in the way she squealed as she tried getting away from his hand.

“You know, Chiho, you always call me an asshole but you’re not one jot better.”

Miura huffed. “Never said I was. Yet you keep coming back for more.”

“Are you flirting with me, Ms. Miura?”

“Maybe so, Mr. Adessar.”

He looked at her, noticing the way her nose crinkled in mockery, an air of mischief around her. She may not have liked herself, always insisted she was ugly, but though they were as different as they could be and human standards of beauty didn’t apply to him, right now he found her incredibly beautiful.

“Let’s go then. My bottle is empty and I feel like eating something spicy. What do you humans call it? Date night?”

She nodded against his chest. “The bar on the Plaza?” she suggested. “It’s close to here and does both dextro and levo menu.”

Adessar got up, dragging Miura to her feet with him, still hugging her close.

“Sounds good. You can keep flirting with me over a few grilled skewers, Ms. Miura. You know I like to be flattered. Bring me the charm, and I’ll make sure you'll feel at home after that.”

She floundered a little, until he let her down. When her feet touched the ground, she punched him in the side. He definitely needed someone to show him the ropes.

“Deal, Mr. Adessar!”


	25. Fuzzy Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated a slightly raunchy T for imagery
> 
> A present for nerdierholler.tumblr.com, after a discussion we held about Adessar being introduced to ABBA and becoming a fervent fan.

Quintus Adessar’s neighbours had to put up with quite a lot noise-wise; Everything from rowdy parties with his squadmates to bringing home random late-night acquaintances (of various species and genders) for incredibly noisy, inebriated sex... the three salarians on floor 18 had by now given up on complaining. But ever since he’d been introduced to that specific music ‘for laughs’ by his human squadmates, the worst was when he got into _that_ mood and decided it was time for some naked impromptu ABBA karaoke.

A dual-toned voice rang out from the 17th floor, in surprisingly perfect harmony with Agnetha and Anni-Frid, the volume so high it made the windows rattle.

 

_Honey honey, how you thrill me, a-ha, honey honey_

_Honey honey, nearly kill me, a-ha, honey honey_

 

It was the night of the big C-Sec Halloween Party hosted by Captain Bailey, and Adessar had made sure everything was ready. Both costumes were ironed and hanging side by side. Quivering with excitement, Adessar ran one taloned hand over his, admiring again the handiwork on the purple overall specially tailored to fit his turian physiology, before heading to the bathroom. It had cost him quite a chunk of his paycheck, but he simply couldn’t pass up this chance of dressing like his secret idol Benny Andersson once in his life. The boots had been a challenge. In the end he’d managed to find a pair of stylish turian ones he could modify with some paint to resemble cowboy boots. Full of reverence, he got the wig out of its box on the bathroom counter, contemplating in the mirror how to best affix it to his fringe.

 

_I'd heard about you before_

_I wanted to know some more_

_And now I know what they mean, you're a love machine_

_Oh, you make me dizzy_

 

Adessar’d turned the music up so loud and was so in sync singing along that he didn’t hear the door to his apartment whoosh open until he heard Chiho Miura’s familiar voice yell right into his ear canal, making him jump, the wig flying off into a corner where it lay still like a strange sort of furry animal.

“YOU SHAVED GIULIANI!” she screamed at him, too wound-up to even notice his nudity, her right hand gesturing frantically at the picture on her omni-tool of a huddled Francesco Giuliani making shocked eyes at the camera, his chest as blank as a little boy’s except for a few sad tufts that had evaded the razor.

“WHY, QUINTUS, WHY?”

Unperturbed, in the background, Agnetha and Anni-Frid sang on.

 

_Honey honey, touch me baby, a-ha, honey honey_

_Honey honey, hold me baby, a-ha, honey honey_

_You look like a movie star (look like a movie star)_

_But I know just who you are (I wonder just who you are)_

 

After a sad look towards his now matted wig, Adessar scolded himself for giving Miura his door PIN. They had arranged to meet at his place, but he didn’t think she’d turn up this early. Giving a sigh, he faced her with a _so what?_ look on his face, evident in the set of his mandibles, planting himself in front of her.

“Well it’s Halloween Party tonight. Have you seen Giuliani naked? He’s got lots of hair, he won’t miss it.”

 

_Honey honey, let me feel it, a-ha, honey honey_

_Honey honey, don't conceal it, a-ha, honey honey_

_The way that you kiss good night_

_The way that you hold me tight_

_I feel like I wanna sing when you do your thing-_

 

“Adessar, why? You can’t just jump on people with an electric shaver! Human hair is very personal. AND TURN OFF THAT MUSIC IT’S TOO LOUD!”

“Sheesh, relax!” he motioned his stereo to mute before turning back to Miura.

She stood in the entrance to his bathroom with her arms crossed, cheeks darkened in anger, eyes blazing as always when she was annoyed with him, which was most of the time. In his heart, Adessar knew she would be the most beautiful Anni-Frid the universe had ever seen.

“Listen, I...”

“No, you will listen to me Mr. Adessar! Sometimes you’re such an asshole, I really don’t know why everyone’s putting up with you? Me included, and I regret agreeing to going to that party with you, especially without knowing about the costume!”

Her cheeks puffed out before she stalked over to his couch and flopped down, eyes still blazing. “I would have NEVER taken you for an ABBA kind of turian. You know how ancient that music is? I only showed it to you for laughs!”

Adessar had opened his mouth to shoot back a sharp remark but then deflated.

"Please don’t tell anyone? They’ll make fun of me.”

Rolling her eyes, Miura scowled at him. Her nostrils flared while she took a few deep breaths to calm down. When she spoke, there was barely controlled exasperation in her voice. “I don’t know what got into you. I know you can be childish, but this is too much! Why did you shave Giuliani?”

Adessar retrieved his wig from the bathroom corner. Carefully dragging his talons through the brown strands in an effort to untangle them, he sat down next to her on the couch. He didn’t bother with dressing, seen that Miura had experienced him naked often enough by now. Staring straight at the ground, he began.

“I… I was scared about telling you because I thought you’d refuse if I told you before. I wanted us to go to the party dressed as Anni-Frid and Benny from ABBA. I didn’t know where to get chest hair from until I saw Giuliani shower, so I went for it. Instant decision.”

He couldn’t help it; a bit of pride at his glorious idea resonated in his subvocals. He expected her to flip at him, the way she always did when she was feeling overwhelmed, but instead, a strange sound reached his ear canal. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was Miura. Holding her stomach, her whole body shaking, she flopped back on the couch giggling until Adessar gently caught her by the shoulders. Seeing his mandibles twitch in confusion, Miura managed to pull herself together.

“Quintus- you’re an asshole but this is actually really funny. Really stupid, too”, she managed to say in between fits of laughter. “I’m sure if you asked Giuliani nicely he’d have let you shave him, instead of chasing him through the hallways and wrestling him down near Chellick’s office.”

"But it worked! It’ll grow back, right?”

Miura sighed again, the angry expression on her face changed into mischief.

“That’s true. He’s got plenty as-is.”

The situation defused, Adessar grew bolder.

“Will you please help me get ready for the party? I got spray adhesive for the chest hair”, he said, a hopeful purr to his subvocals.

Miura tried looking annoyed again, but in the end the corners of her mouth quirked upwards.

“Ok, _Benny._  First, show me my costume. I wanna see what you got me into. And then, I suppose I’ll spray you with glue and kinda… scatter Giuliani’s collected chest hair over your keel like confetti?”

She made a gesture with her hand, as if she was sprinkling glitter on the floor.

“Something like that.”

“I hate you, Quintus.”

 

* * *

 

The party itself was a huge success, C-Sec HQ’s top floor meeting room transformed into a big event hall, music loud enough to resound through the hallways. Apart from a few calls of “Hey Frida, you gonna sing for us?” and “Benny you forgot your keyboard!” nobody seemed to recognize them, which suited Miura who felt like an idiot dressed in her sky blue overall. The curly wig was itchy too, and the sparkly makeup burned in her eyes. But Adessar looked so proud and happy the way he strutted around with the chest hair stuck to his plates, she couldn’t bring herself to fall back into her sour mood.

Giuliani seemed weary at first when he saw Adessar with his fuzzy keel, but after the third drink, Miura found them sitting behind the bar arm in arm, singing a medley of turian rock songs glorifying the Hierarchy. Although Giuliani had his difficulties pronouncing all the growls, screeches and keens with his human vocal chords, at that stage of drunk, it didn’t matter anymore. The way they sat slouched against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, left no doubt that he’d forgiven Adessar.

Miura wiggled one finger under the scratchy wig, rubbing her itchy scalp. She wouldn’t admit it yet, but it turned out to be a nice party after all. And one thing she had to admit to herself, a warm, fuzzy feeling growing in her chest.

_Trust in your friends was to let them shave you for a perfect evening._


	26. A Kiss in Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: A kiss in relief

Evenings like these, with few guests and even fewer things to do, were sparse. They took every chance they got to sit on the weather worn porch, enjoying each other’s company while listening to the sound of the pacific waves on their doorstep.

Running her fingers over the rugged wood in an absent-minded manner, Jane was sipping on a soda. Lost in thought, her chin propped in one hand, she only looked up when she heard Kieran approach and squat down near her, his purr a calming background noise melting into the sound of the ocean, so familiar and dear to her. When the wind picked up, bringing the acrid smell of paint thinner with it, she realized he had poured himself a small vial of turian brew. The bottle of booze was one of his most prized possessions and was only opened on special occasions. Though the extranet proved to be invaluable in this regard, it was still expensive to get dextro food and daily necessities on Earth. They definitely didn’t have extra credits to spare on luxury goods. On top of that, Jane had sworn to herself not to touch one drop of alcohol ever again. She’d spent too much of her life drowning worries in whiskey.

“What’s with the drink?” Jane asked with a quirk of her right eyebrow. “Got something to celebrate?”

He gave a low chuckle, or more of a rumble, that started deep in his chest, before cocking his head to one side, the lighting from the torches affixed to the handrail casting the plates on his cheek and his fringe in a golden light.

“I don’t know? Just seemed like a good idea.”

“Hm. You’re a shitty liar.” Jane leant over to trace the cream-white markings on his cheeks with her right hand. “Come on, tell me?”

Kieran caught her hand in his, dipping down to brush his mouth plates against the smooth carbon of her prosthetic. He liked doing that, lavishing her with small attentions, as if he was still feeling bad about leaving her behind all those years ago and had to catch up on endearment.

“I got a mail today”, he said then, gazing out over the beach and the dark ocean. “A reply from Honolulu Spaceport. As soon as my residence permit comes through, I can start working.”

Jane looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise as she tried processing the news. _Finally something positive._

Her heart overflowing with relief, she cast her bottle to the side and jumped Kieran, kissing him square on the mouth, making them both topple off the veranda onto the beach, like two teenagers suddenly aware of their feelings. Soda bubbled over the steps, seeped into the sand, underlined by the sound of the waves, and overjoyed squeals.

 _Things were looking up on their little patch of earth_.


	27. A Kiss Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sequel to chapter 26, "a kiss in relief".... I'm terribly sorry, guys.
> 
> Jane x Kieran
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: a kiss goodbye

Scenes like these, farewells whispered by friends and lovers, were a common sight at spaceports all across the galaxy. Honolulu buzzed with busy energy on this bright afternoon, a warm pacific breeze blowing through the open windows of the departure terminal.  
  
They would have looked like any other couple saying their goodbyes, were it not for the fact the woman had extensive prosthetics peeking out from under her shirt and cargo shorts, and her companion was a big turian with striking cream coloured markings on his face.  
  
„Listen, I-“  
  
Kieran interrupted Jane with a soothing purr. He tried acting cool, and composed, but she had noticed how he hadn‘t managed to quench that tell-tale keen of distress from his subvocals all morning.

 _It isn’t fair_ , was all she could think about right now. They‘d waited what felt like ages for his residence permit to come through, he’d gotten used to life on Earth during these months, and finally, because of some measly paragraph somewhere in a fuckin‘ rulebook, the immigration office had declined.  
  
Jane saw Kieran scratch around the plates on his side, a stealthy move, as if he didn‘t want her to notice. His skin condition had started flaring up again, in response to the stress his imminent departure brought. Not a good sign. The moist climate of Kaua’i had done him good.  
  
„You gonna be ok? Packed the army knife?“ Jane asked, ghosting one hand along his arm, up and down, as if she hadn‘t done it thousands of times before. He tilted his head, gazed out over the palm trees swaying outside.

„Yeah. It will be fine. Nikah isn‘t overjoyed to have me back but we‘ll figure it out. She says Hadrian will be thrilled to meet his dad.“  
  
Jane gave a chuckle, a bitter little sound that echoed regrets, and year-old sorrows. “Bet he will. Glad Nikah’s taking care of you. She sounds like a good person.”  
  
“Yeah. She is. The best.”  
  
They looked at each other, unsure on how much PDA they were allowed here, in the open. It was less than ten years since the First Contact War, and turians on Earth were still a minority. A big hand caressed Jane’s waist, just for a second, then shied back as the shuttle announcements blared from the speakers.  
  
“That your flight?”  
  
“Yes. Time to go.”  
  
This was the moment. He was going away, to the Citadel, to his ordinary life, and not coming back. She was not going to see him again. _She was not going to see him again_. It had been too good to be true, a mere dream being dangled in front of her nose. The realization made Jane’s breath hitch, and unfamiliar rebellion bubble up inside of her.  
  
To hell with what everyone else thought!  
  
She stood on tip-toes, grabbing Kieran by the back of his neck and dragged him down for a kiss, a heated affair, raw in its immediate need, not something one would show in public. She felt him tense, then open his mouth, his tongue sneaking out to meet hers, mimicking her moves, familiar friction and taste she would never savour again. His heat was comforting, and when he dropped his bag to embrace her, hold her as close as possible, his keel digging into her ribcage, she fervently wished this all was nothing more than a bad dream.  
  
Around them, murmurs erupted, like circles in the water before a storm, bouncing off each other.  
  
Another flight announcement. Kieran gave a distressed growl while he tore himself from her, one of his hands lingering on Jane’s cheek, as if he wanted to memorize the shape of her face, for times to come.  
  
Jane swallowed. This was it. The end.  
  
“I’ll never forget you, Kieran. I love you.”  
  
He looked down at her, a mixture of defiance and hurt reflected in his incredibly green eyes, and for the first time since they had met, he said those words.  
  
“I love you too. I‘ll always be with you.“  
  
Their fingers intertwined one last time, hide and plate against soft, tanned skin, slipping apart, talons leaving two red trails against the back of her hand, before he shouldered his bag and turned around.  
  
And Jane stood there, watching him leave, her arms wrapped around herself for comfort, for a long time. Unable to cry, unable to feel anything except for a paralysing numbness. Until, at one point, her body reminded her that she should move, get a drink, or something to eat. Life took its course, it wouldn’t stop for anyone. Jane sighed, and went home.


	28. It can only get better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya Ryder x Tiran Kandros
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: "Please get home safely"

Vortex was brimming full with people partying. Supplies and food were still on the low side on the Nexus, but securing Meridian and finding most of the arks had finally given people the boost of morale they sorely needed. Things were looking up in the Heleus cluster.  
  
Safe in between her crew, finally taking a night off after the last month’s turmoil, Anya Ryder was sipping on one of Anan’s new concoctions, an effervescent, lilac-coloured something that tasted sharp yet sweet at the same time. It made Anya’s head spin, and for some reason, didn‘t manage to lift her mood. She’d anticipated going back to the Nexus, to finally see her, well, _boyfriend_ , if one could call him such, but Tiran Kandros, as always, was busy. He’d politely acknowledged her message, saying he’d be over to the Vortex as soon as he could, but he hadn’t showed up, as if their first night of talking and hesitant kisses had never happened.

 _He doesn’t like you_ , Anya’s brain piped up.  
  
“I’m gonna head back to the Tempest”, Anya told Vetra after putting down the empty drink carefully. “Not feeling like partying tonight.”  
  
“You ok?” Vetra’s subvocals buzzed with faint worry, the way it befitted her status as the Tempest family’s surrogate mom. She always noticed when something was wrong.  
  
Anya nodded while running her fingers through her shaggy, lavender-coloured hair. Her cheeks felt warmer than they should have been. “Yeah I’m fine. Just tired.”  
  
Vetra didn’t look overly convinced, her mandibles flaring in disapproval, but she knew better than to talk back. „Please get home safely”, was all she said.  
  
With a sigh, her heart heavy, Anya left. _Tiran’s not coming because he thinks you suck_ , her brain told her. _He’d rather stay in the militia office dealing with Apex missions than spending time with you._

Tears started welling up, and Anya hated herself for it, both for those intrusive thoughts and for crying. It was childish, and someone as important as herself shouldn’t be crying all the time over something as stupid as- 

She cut the corner without looking and collided with a very hard, very real turian breastplate.  
  
She felt the impact, sending her to the ground in a sprawl.

“Pathfinder? Anya?” Tiran’s voice rang up from somewhere above her. She squeezed her eyelids together in an effort to clear her head, get the pain shooting through her to subside, then felt herself being scooped up by strong arms, all in the fraction of seconds.  
  
When she dared open her eyes, she was confronted with well-known turian markings. She’d recognize that stripe over his mouth anywhere. Unable to control the feelings of relief of seeing Tiran here, she buried her head in his cowl, sobs shaking her body.  
  
“What- what happened?” Tiran sounded confused as he cradled her.  
  
Anya was feeling so overwhelmed, the words kept blubbering out of her. “I waited for you and Anan gave me a drink that made me sad and then I wanted to go back to the Tempest because you weren’t coming-”  
  
He cut her off with a soothing purr.  
  
“Don’t be silly. I promised you I’d come, and here I am. Wanna go back in? Finally introduce me to your crew?”  
  
She shook her head, buried her face in his neck, finding comfort in his scent, armour polish and something more organic she couldn‘t quite apprehend.  
  
“No.”  
  
Tiran laughed, a buzz deep in his chest. “What do you want then?”  
  
Anya inhaled, unsure on what to answer. She wasn’t the most self-assured person, and expressing her own wishes was still difficult, even though he had admitted before that he‘d like to date her. “I want to spend time with you? Alone?”  
  
It was more of a question than a statement, but she‘d managed to put her idea across.  
  
Tiran lowered her to the ground, carefully, the way he always did, then fleetingly stroked the back of her neck in a reassuring gesture.  
  
“My place?” he suggested. “We could watch a movie. And I got beer.”  
  
Anya nodded. “Beer sounds good.”  
  
“I knew you’d say that. Let‘s go?“

She nodded, her hair flying everywhere, before grabbing his arm, letting him escort her down to the tram station. The night might have started in a shitty way, but she felt it could only get better.

_Good things come to those who wait._


	29. Illium Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adessar x Miura
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: "in a room full of people, it feels like it's only us two"

Today’s shift had been incredibly boring.

Adessar and Miura were on the same team, but their friends Giuliani and T’Rani were scheduled to HQ guard duty, and the two demotivated asari beat officers assigned to patrol instead weren’t the most lively partners. Chatty as he was, Adessar did try talking to them, turning his charm on the way he always did, complimenting them, but they both would only give monosyllabic answers, so after a few tries he fell into step with Miura who was trailing behind, looking surly as always.

Today’s patrol took them through the shopping streets on the Presidium upper levels, from Stations 14 to 18 and back. Not a place with a lot of anticipated troubles. Idly listening to C-Sec’s background channel for possible emergencies, they watched the display windows. Every time they patrolled by the movie store, Miura would glance at the advert posters, and give a sigh, a small sound, nearly inaudible yet full of longing. Adessar didn’t pay any attention at first, but after the third time, he realized why she did it, and that made his mandibles twitch in glee.

His voice was smooth as ever, laying on that chocolatey charm thick. “Tell me, Ms. Miura”, he purred, “it appears you have a penchant for Asari cop flicks? Why wasn’t I told?”

She looked up at him, eyes blazing. Apparently he’d hit a nerve. “No I don’t! Stop assuming things about me!”

With a chuckle, Adessar shook his head. “Listen, I’ve heard you sigh in different situations up to now, and I know that one. It’s the ‘I’m enamoured’ and it was clearly aimed at the ‘Illium Beat’ poster. You’re a shitty liar.”

“No I’m not! Asari movies suck, they’re always so pathetic and full of stupid corny romance, I hate them!”

Adessar’s mandibles twitched. He liked the movie, had seen it a few times already. He wasn’t one for overly cheesy films, preferring something with straight-on action instead of romance-flick-with-occasional-detective-work, but ‘Illium Beat’ had some good dialogue that had people of all possible species melt away. “Oh yeah? Well let me show you how much you hate them.”

In one fluid motion, he caught Miura by the hand, spinning her into his embrace (to his own astonishment, the move worked remarkably well), and, looking her deep in the eyes, his voice flanged and sensual, delivered the sentence, the one that was quoted by lovestruck teenagers all around the galaxy, that had krogan warlords swoon.

“Detective Emelia, my star in the sky, light in the dark, in a room full of people, it feels like it’s just us two.”

Miura’s eyes widened in shock. For a second, her countenance faltered, her features softened. “Why, how do you….” she stared at him, then scrambled to get out of his arms, her upper lip curled in distaste. “Stop quoting ‘Illium Beat’!”

Adessar’s mandibles twitched as he let her go. His subvocals buzzed with smugness. “Told you. Your secret’s safe with me. Surly Chiho Miura doesn’t like romantic asari movies, I get it.”

She ran one hand through her hair, then kicked him in the shin once, as if to prove her point. They were both wearing their armour on patrol, so it didn’t hurt in itself, but the heavy, steel-toed riot squad boots still managed to scuff Adessar’s shin guard. “Damn right I don’t, you wanna-be investigator!”

Their asari squadmates gave an impatient wave of their hands, urging them to continue their patrol, so the two fell into step behind them. Miura kept looking at the floor, while Adessar started idly playing with his omni-tool, the way he always did when he was bored. His brain was working. Maybe there was something he could do to lift Miura’s mood…. with a twitch of his mandibles, he opened his hacking programs, and set to work. It wasn’t going to be much, he knew, but if he judged Miura right, she’d love the surprise.

* * *

The message reached him when he was back home after his shift. He’d just stepped out of the bathroom after a thorough brushing when his omni-tool lit up.

HOLY CRAP QUINTUS I WAS GIFTED TWO ENTRIES TO THE PREMIERE OF ILLIUM BEAT 2!! WANNA COME?

Adessar shook his head, subvocals buzzing with amusement. She’d asked him out! On a movie date! Because he’d, well, changed a few parameters on a random giveaway. He made a mental note to use his hacking skills _for good_ more often from now on.


	30. An unexpected maneuver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starring Captain Ianus, being his grumpy turian self
> 
> Rated T
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: "Kiss me and I'll forgive you"

Humans were an annoying bunch. Loud, brash, erratic. _No discipline_.

Hierarchy captain Ianus Etherian sat at the bar counter, trying to enjoy a glass of aged brandy. It wasn‘t often that he got shore leave, so on the few times he did, he liked going out by himself and indulging in some good aged spirits. But as soon as he‘d ordered, out of nowhere, a whole bunch of alliance sailors had appeared, hogging most of the bar, laughing, shoving each others, filling the whole space with their stench, all that, what was it called…. _after-shave_.

_Humans!_

Ianus gave a dismissive snort. He didn‘t understand why the rest of the galaxy was so enamoured with them. Apparently everybody wanted to sleep with them, too, because of the novelty. He shuddered at the thought. The Hierarchy had come so close to showing them at Shanxi, and then the council had stepped in… 

Ignoring the racket around him, Ianus took a long swig of brandy.

Left and right, drinks were poured, the men and women in their ugly Alliance uniforms clinking glasses, cheering, hugging each other.

An unmoving island in a frothing sea, Ianus retracted his head as much into his cowl as he could and took another sip, morosely observing the bar from under the edge of his field cap. Nobody noticed his increasingly impatient mandible twitches.

Right next to him, two servicemen had started kissing, such a weird sort of mating ritual. Ianus listened to the squishy slurpy sounds they made while sucking on each other’s tongues.

_Disgusting._

He remembered a group of his newly appointed ensigns watching earth movies on a makeshift screen in the cruiser’s galley one night. They’d flinched when he stepped in, undoubtedly anticipating an admonition. But it had been one of Ianus’ good days, and he’d tried being amicable towards them. He sat down, watched the movies with them, cracked a few jokes at the human’s expenses. Flirted a little with one of the fledglings, just for the fun of it. Ianus knew he didn’t have the reputation of most friendly captain in the fleet, but at least, under his command, fresh recruits learned the proper ways of the Hierarchy, what it meant to obey orders, to believe in the greater good, to put their own needs behind those of their crewmates and work together. Ianus’ ensigns often went out achieving well after serving on cruiser Invictus, a fact that he prided himself on.

The movie night in itself had not been very enlightening. Ianus sat through two movies, pretentious stories with overused tropes and impossible stunts and special effects. It had given him a really bad headache. The mating scenes were repulsive too, everything so… soft and squashy. And all that… kissing. Yes, turians did something similar, but nowhere near the amount humans seemed to love. Ianus shook his head as if to dislodge the memory. Kissing was overrated, and sure as hell he’d never want to kiss a human. Those wet pink tongues were disturbing.

Right when Ianus decided to take another sip, someone bumped into him, making him spill half the glass over his fatigues.

„Oh sorry“, the man piped up with not more than a fleeting glance before turning back to his companions.

A mandible twitched once, in annoyance. The now empty glass was put down. Enough was enough. Ianus’ huge hands descended on the young man’s shoulders, talons puncturing the fabric of his jacket, yanked him around.

“‘Oh sorry’ won’t do, human”, he growled, his voice deep, subvocals rumbling with anger, face only inches from the human’s nose. “That was an expensive brandy.”

“Well, I’m….” the young man stammered while trying to wriggle out of the vice-like turian grip, his lower lip quivering.

_Pathetic._

Ianus sighed. He couldn’t comprehend how vermin like that could win upper hand at Shanxi. Might as well make ‘em suffer some more, they deserved it. He had a reputation, so maybe now was the moment to deploy it.

„Kiss me and I’ll forgive you.“ The words were barely more than a growl, a warning. He unfurled his long blue tongue, licked along the side of his mouth plates.

Different feelings seemed to flit over the young human‘s face. Disgust, fear, tension, shame. Ianus stared him down, revelling in the feeling of dominance.

But then, one of the human‘s friends who had been sitting there idly, watching the scene, moved into view. His eyes roamed over Ianus’ huge form, giving him a good once over, lingering on mandibles, shoulders, waist, talons.

„Well I wouldn‘t mind kissin’ you. Or more. You look like fun“, he finally said, giving Ianus the most suggestive smile the captain had ever seen.

_Those smug little bastards!  
_

For what felt like the first time in his life, Hierarchy captain Ianus Etherian didn’t know what to answer. But he knew when to admit defeat. And this one had played him marvellously. He shoved the quivering human towards his mates, and left without another word.


	31. A Kiss to distract/ A Kiss in comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya Ryder x Tiran Kandros
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: A Kiss in Comfort/ A Kiss to Distract

The Tempest had barely arrived at the nightly docks, but impatient as she was, Anya Ryder wiggled herself through the rest of her crew, heading for the tram station at lightning speed.

As was to be expected, she found Tiran Kandros in the militia’s office. Usually, no matter the hour, he’d stand there, eyes fixed on the screens, feeding him updates on his Apex crews, but this early morning, he was pacing like a trapped lion, unable to quench the misery from his subvocals. Anya felt the keening resound inside of herself. She’d never seen him so upset, and it worried her. Tiran Kandros wasn’t one to show distress, as far as she knew.

“Hey.” Her hand brushed against the ceramic of his armour as he streaked past, a hesitant gesture. “What’s up?”

He stopped to focus on her, though she had a feeling he didn’t completely realize she was here.

“Can I help?”

Kandros inhaled. “I should not have sent them on that run, Anya. It was pure hubris to let them take on that Kett base. And now Team November is gone, because I was too confident.”

“Shit I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

He tilted his head to the side, a quick gesture, similar to a shrug in humans.

“It’s alright.”

Anya’s heart overflowed at seeing him so upset. It was not exactly the way she expected to see him, after being on a long mission. On impulse, she stood up on tiptoes, as well as she could, and pressed a tender kiss to that blue stripe over his mouth, her hands resting right and left of his mandibles. She felt him relax under her touch, his mind finally taken from mulling over his failure. It wasn’t much, but she was going to offer him all the comfort she could give.


	32. A Kiss in Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan Shepard x Garrus
> 
> Rated G
> 
> From a tumblr drabble prompt list: A Kiss in Joy

It took them quite some time to process the sheer luck they’d had during the suicide run. The human reaper defeated. The collectors‘ base destroyed.

Jordan Shepard lay in Shavasana in her cabin, after a strenuous hour of yoga, her mind finally at ease after the last day’s turmoil. There was so much to do, but right now, she welcomed the numbness, the weariness, like an old friend. It distracted her from all those intrusive thoughts and self doubt that pained her all waking hours.

A beep from the door made her crack open one eye, then gesture to her omni-tool to open the lock.

„Hey… How are you holding up?“

it was Garrus‘ voice, and Jordan was relieved it was him and not anybody else visiting her right now.

Her heart skipped for the fraction of a second.

It had been mere days ago, they‘d slept together. And though Jordan had feared the relationship of trust and respect they‘d built over time would be damaged by it, first and foremost, Garrus was still a friend. Someone who had her back, no matter what. They‘d grown together, during their time on the Normandy. There was nobody else who knew better than Garrus how broken she felt inside, how much the demands of the galaxy weighed her down. And nobody else who could make her feel worthy, and loved.

„Better“, she answered with a crooked smile as she pushed herself off the mat to sit down on the couch. „Thank you.“

„I can‘t believe we did that“, he said, to no one in particular. „We all made it out.“

Jordan smiled, brushed one hesitant hand over this forearm.

„Thanks to you, Garrus. Had you not led the second team….“ her voice broke off.

He extended one hand, gloved talons squeezing her fingers, gently.

„I‘m relieved we came out unscathed… but first and foremost, I’m glad to have you back, and here with me.“

His remark made Jordan sit up.

She felt it bloom in her chest, a seed of happiness, a tiny speck, in between all the fatigue and darkness churning inside of her. Her skin broke out in goosebumps at the new sensation.

She noticed Garrus sneak one arm around her bare shoulders, hugging her close, and leant over to dot his mouth plates with a little kiss. It wasn‘t deep, or long, or incredibly passionate. Jordan Shepard wasn‘t good at conveying feelings. But she recognized positivity, in those few minutes she‘d be graced with it.

It was a small kiss, and yet, it conveyed all the happiness in the world.


End file.
